


Shoot with your right hand

by missveils (Embersalamander)



Category: Fallen London | Echo Bazaar
Genre: Duelling, F/M, Other, Poetic, Swordfighting, ironbruary, stanzas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 11:50:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9819155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Embersalamander/pseuds/missveils
Summary: Silver girls play too well.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fatterbird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fatterbird/gifts).



i. She writes with her left hand so she can hold a gun under the table with her right.

ii.  When she plays chess it’s three strategies, three pieces left, three consecutive wins.

iii.  And she plays chess like she has lead an army.

iv. She has a scar over her left breast from the only time she ever died. It is shaped like a sword pointing at her sternum.

v.  She is vain, but she is not stupid. She finds strength in numbers and her lackeys are never far. Neither are yours, though. It’s always the ruins of the Forgotten Quarter or the rooftops. She does have a penchant for dramatics.

vi. She is silver. The gleam of her satin dress, and the gleam of her rapier. You aren’t fooled, you know she is the kind to bring a derringer to a swordfight. Her gloves are white leather, and they are always immaculate.

vii. “Maybe today I’ll find what it takes to kill one of your kind, huh?” She doesn’t want to know.

viii. “Cat got your tongue? Oh right.” Her smile is sharper than any blade. “You can use my hand to answer me, if you’d like.” The pen is sharp, cuts through her skin and blood and ink mix together. She has a burn on her shoulder from the time you forgot what language you were writing in. Or maybe you didn’t forget.

ix. Her rapier is ridiculously sturdy and takes the blows from your sword -a memory from the fourth city- with grace. Her hand is always close to a fold in her jacket, you don’t doubt she is perfectly able to shoot if she finds herself losing. Or if she gets bored.

x. You have just learnt that she can hold a rapier with either hand, and the change is unnoticeable. She always shoots with her right.

xi. Of course a shot will not kill you. It takes more than that. But it’s enough to make you buckle. She helps you stand in her arms and snorts. “Well that was fun.” She says. Her lips press against the cold surface of the mask. “But I’ve already got what I came here for.”

xii. She always carries a knife with her too, for good measure. It’s traditional in this sport, after all.

xiii. You blood flows into a crystal vial she holds in her left hand. “Ah Iron, my sweet, I can’t wait for you to see what this will buy me. But I don’t wan’t to spoil the surprise.” She stands, leaving you behind. “Isn’t the night lovely?”

xiv. The silver of her rapier is streaked with dark blood. As is the silver of her satin gown. But the white glove on her left hand, and the white glove on her right hand, those remain immaculate.

**Author's Note:**

> follow on tumblr for more: http://missveils.tumblr.com/


End file.
